


Endings (a Beginning)

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-19
Updated: 2005-07-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>>He stays, and weaves fresh darkness from desperate cries and the split-second plea of pain-curled hands that reach and reach and <em>reach</em> to stop him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endings (a Beginning)

He stays, and weaves fresh darkness from desperate cries and the split-second plea of pain-curled hands that reach and reach and _reach_ to stop him. He stays, and hides from every footstep, from shout-spill-calls and those who'd stumble, curse and search.

His wand arm shakes, his fingers locked and twisted, bloodied, soiled. (The final spell's a slick, green poison that curls in his stomach, simmers beneath his new-torn skin and even the blood that spills through his fingers can't leach the venom, stop its spread).

He jams his back against a tree and waits, the bark-rough pain a leavening pleasure, and even after - sun to spill over broken bodies - he waits with purpose, usefulness lost.

He slips and shifts from waking to sleeping, from consciousness to something broken, deeper - clawing loss of blood and breath. He wakes with tears upon his cheeks and once with laughter in his mouth and -

\- rises up through every layer of fog that steals the hope he though he knew and, cool as twilight, a finger's pressed against his lips. Even sleeping, he'd know the ice-soft touch of such a hand and he thinks perhaps it's over now.

The finger drags (bump of chin) and tilts his head and _soft_ \- his lips are touched by others. His breath's a sob and he presses closer - _sweet-smoke-sour_ , a tongue to murmur faith and change.

  
 _Harry_.

Conviction in such simple syllables.

He buries his fingers in ash-blond hair and sets aside the Boy Who Lived to be the man who claims this life.


End file.
